The Beginning of Everything

“That’s probably true,” Toby admitted.

We walked across the parking lot to In-N-Out Burger, which doesn’t technically count as fast food, since you have to wait for it.

“Do you know about their secret menu?” Toby asked Cassidy. “Because you can order all sorts of things. Root beer floats, animal-style fries . . .”

“Obviously.” Cassidy rolled her eyes. “I have lived in California before.”

“No! Really?” Toby mocked.

“Well, do you know about the palm trees?” I asked.

Both of them stared at me. I grinned.

“There are two palm trees planted in an X outside of all the In-N-Outs,” I said. “It’s from some old movie the owner liked, because in the film a treasure was buried there.”

“That’s terrible,” Cassidy said. “Pretending a fast-food place is a buried treasure.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think it’s cool. Most people don’t know about it, but when you do, you look for the X every time you drive past an In-N-Out.”

“Like IHOP,” Toby said. “My cousins call it ‘dohi,’ since that’s IHOP upside down. It gets in your head. You’ll just see an upside-down dohi sign next time you pass one, trust me.”

Immediately, I thought of the hydrocarbon chains in organic chemistry; the same thing upside down, and how knowing to look for it changes your whole perspective. I almost mentioned it, since Cassidy would know what I was talking about, but I didn’t. Not because they’d think I was weird, or nerdy, but because the moment was so perfect that it just didn’t need anything else.



“DUDE,” TOBY WHISPERED as we took our order receipt. “Did you know that Justin Wong worked here?”

I shrugged. “Must pay well.”

Justin was in my math class. He was a pretty forgettable guy, except for his car—this ridiculously souped-up Honda, the kind kids at school referred to as a rice rocket.

We were filling our drinks from the soda machine when I first heard it: a familiar peal of laughter. My shoulders stiffened.

“Oh, kill me.” Toby leaned against the soda machine, staring at them.

Sure enough: Charlotte, Evan, and Jimmy were in the good corner booth, the big one by the windows, where we always used to sit when we came here.

“Do you think we should just get it to go?” Toby muttered.

“Go where?” I asked. “There can never be burgers in my car, because then my car will smell like burgers, and trust me, that’s a risk I’m not willing to take.”

“We could put them in the trunk,” Toby suggested desperately.

“I’m not eating a burger that’s been in anyone’s trunk,” Cassidy said.

“We could eat them in the parking lot,” Toby said.

“Because that isn’t obvious.” I rolled my eyes. “They’re sitting right by the window.”

We clustered around the ketchup pump, eyeing the table. They’d just gotten their food and clearly weren’t planning to leave anytime soon.

One of the In-N-Out employees, some kid from a different school, dropped off three more burgers and fries at their table.

“Hey, Ezra?” Justin Wong called. “I had Angelo bring your food over to your table.”

I stared at Justin, not comprehending. And then I realized: those burgers were ours.

“Awesome,” I said hollowly. “Thanks.”

“Shit stickers,” Toby swore softly.

“Well, come on.” I said it as though we were standing outside of the funeral service and might as well go in.

“Oh good, you mean I get to hang out with your old friends?” Cassidy grinned hugely.

“Be nice,” I warned.

“You’d think I brushed my teeth and sharpened my tongue every morning, the way he goes on,” Cassidy complained.

“More like brushed your teeth and dulled your wit,” said Toby.



IT WAS EVAN who spotted us first. His surfer’s baritone carried across the restaurant as he raised his soft drink in the air like some sort of toast and called, “Yo, Faulkner! Get your gimp ass over here!”

“Hey,” I said sheepishly as we shuffled toward the table. “What’s going on?”

“Just chillin’,” Evan said.

Jimmy nodded enthusiastically. He was eating a 4 x 4 Animal Style, a gooey, thick stack of meat patties oozing sauce. There was another identical burger on his tray, because apparently one wasn’t enough. He took a bite, and it reminded me of this video I’d seen on YouTube of a mountain lion devouring a gazelle.

“So, funny story,” I said, “but Justin sent our food over to your table.”

“Who?” Charlotte asked blankly.

“Justin,” I repeated. “The guy behind the counter? He’s in our year at school.”

I couldn’t figure why she didn’t know who I meant. And then I realized that Charlotte had always done this—pretended not to know which classmate you were taking about, as though she was above remembering certain people.

“Oh.” Charlotte frowned, disinterested. “Well, whatever. You’re here now, so join us.”

“Yeah, dude, plenty of room. Pop a squat,” Evan said.

We hadn’t discussed it, but I knew the plan was to get our food and calculate the physics of which table was the farthest from this booth, that table being the optimal place to enjoy our dinner. But I couldn’t exactly refuse. Not after the way I’d blown everyone off without explanation ever since school started.

“Sounds good,” I said with a shrug, sliding into the booth.

I could feel Cassidy’s hand on my sleeve, as though she wanted me to know that she’d slide in first so I could take the end, but I gritted my teeth and scooted along the pleather seat, not wanting my old friends to see how useless I was.

“Where’s Jill?” I asked, unwrapping my food. I dumped half of the fries onto my tray and wordlessly passed Cassidy the little paper container, since we were sharing.

Charlotte watched me split the container of fries as though it meant something significant.

“She’s stuck doing some Student Government crap, I don’t even know. But it’ll give us a chance to know your new friend.” Charlotte’s smile dripped venom as she stirred the straw in her milk shake.

We all bit into our burgers. Three tables away, a kid too big for his high chair screamed for dessert while his parents calmly ate their food, ignoring him.

“Faulkner, you didn’t come to my party!” Jimmy accused.

“Yeah, sorry. How was it?”

“Connor MacLeary showed up wasted and tossed the keg into the pool.” Jimmy shrugged philosophically. “And my bitch-ass neighbor called the cops. We had to pretend it was a church barbecue.”

“That actually worked?” Toby asked, floored.

“No.” Jimmy took another bite of his burger.

“So, Cassie,” Charlotte said brightly, “Where did you move here from, again? Chino? Compton?”

Cassidy smiled at the insult, as though she found Charlotte extremely funny.

“San Francisco,” Cassidy said. “But I’ve lived all over the world, really. London, Zurich, even down in Louisiana for a couple of years.”

“Oh,” Charlotte’s face fell as she considered this. “I’ve always wanted to visit Europe.”

“Well, where does your class trip go?” Cassidy wanted to know.

We all looked at her blankly.

“You don’t have those?” Cassidy asked, disbelieving. “Seniors don’t go to Spain or somewhere to traipse through museums and churches for a week?”

I started laughing. “We go to Six Flags.”

“Good thing it’s not Disneyland,” Charlotte said sweetly, with a glance in Toby’s direction.

At this, Evan burst out laughing.

“Babe,” he spluttered, trying to get it under control, “you’re pure evil.”

“Whatever, you love it,” Charlotte retorted, touching her index finger to the tip of his nose. It was so adorable that I almost threw up all over my adorable pile of fries.

“So, has everyone studied for Mr. Anthony’s quiz?” I asked, hurriedly changing the subject without thinking.

“What quiz?” Jimmy asked nervously.

“AP Euro,” Cassidy said.

“Dude, none of us are in AP.” Evan chuckled, cramming a fistful of fries into his mouth.

“It’s senior year,” said Jimmy. “I’ve only got five classes, counting tennis.”

“Counting tennis, that takes balls,” Toby muttered.

Robyn Schneider's books